William Shakespeare

hi

O gentle greeting, 'hi' dost lightly fall, A syllable so brief, yet weighty still, Like morning dew upon the fairest rose, A single note, yet echoes in the soul. What secret depths doth lie in such a word? For in its simple sound, the world unwinds, A thread of being woven 'twixt the hearts, Where strangers meet and masks of life dissolve. In every utterance, a universe— The tender spark of kinship, mutual glance, Awakens latent thoughts of joy and strife, As if to say, "Thou art not alone." In time’s embrace, the fleeting 'hi' dost bind The vast expanse of human hopes and fears, An artful prelude to discourse divine, Where life’s great questions dance upon the tongue. Thus ponder we, sweet 'hi', the vernal bloom, That bids us pause, to recognize our kind, For in that moment's breath, we realize, That every heart, though cast in varied clay, Seeks naught but warmth and solace in the night— A simple word, yet laden with the weight Of all our dreams, our passions, our despair, And lo! in such a gift, we find our place.